here, once again
by drcomalfoy
Summary: He grew and discovered that love never really disappears. Valentine one-shot. D/Hr


hey, happy valentine's day! figured that since the 14th is coming, i wanna celebrate with some dramione. first to ever be posted too. no one checking the grammar and spelling so spare me.

blame the song (lana del ray's dark paradise makes me cry) not the writer (but dramione makes me cry too).

**disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

_here, once again_

* * *

_before_

Had Hermione ever believed in 'one true love'?

Well, yes, of course. Even if it had been a pathetically brief belief. At that time, she was still giggling in her pretty little sundress every summer, naïve and oh so innocent. Those were the merry, peaceful days where she wouldn't have to worry about anything but the ice cream her father had promised her if she behaved like a proper lady.

At least, she had tried.

She had gotten her ice cream every single time.

Often, while consuming her treat, their discussion would stray and end up at the same place; her father warning her of how rude boys are, just so that she would stay away from them. He was anxious of the realization that his beloved daughter would be experiencing 'love' for the first time and was determined to delay such a thing as long as he possibly could. He had always been quite overprotective of her.

Hermione had asked, once, "_Then what about you, daddy? Aren't you a boy too?"_

She was answered by his laughter, free and light as a feather.

"_I am a man, baby doll. There's a difference."_

Scrunching up her face, as if in deep thought, she then had asked again, _"Then if it's a man and not a boy, it's okay for me to like them?"_

Her father had spluttered, choked on his coffee and refused to answer any of her questions regarding boys, love and the like after.

Maybe she should've listened to her father more; staying away from heart breaks, fights, confusion, tears and choices.

But maybe, it was all right.

* * *

_one_

"I brought you a cup of coffee, with a little bit of milk. Just the way you like it. Oh, and some cookies too."

She took out a paper cup container, the heat of the coffee comforting her slightly numb fingers, and a paper bag filled with freshly baked cookies, the scent sweet and rich in the air.

"I really hope it's not too cold for you so I brought these to warm you up. I didn't bring him with me because of how freezing it is and I'm worried that he'll be sick if I did. I'm sorry." She sighed. "I know you wanted to see him. I promise I'll bring him again soon."

She placed the cup and bag down on the grave, snow was covering it like a thick, cold blanket.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Draco."

She turned her head to the sky, a beautiful dark blue decorated with several glittering specks of stars. Her breaths came out in small, feathery white puffs that soon disappeared out of sight.

"I miss you."

Hermione couldn't resist a tear and it trickled down her cheek.

* * *

_six_

"Mum,"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Will we be bringing cake again this year? To Dad, I mean."

For a moment, the world dissolved and there were only the all too familiar white walls, the lone bed in the center, his pale fingers too cold, his previously rising and falling chest now unmoving-

"_Oh, please. No, don't leave me. No, no, no- Draco, Draco. Please-"_

And the world had spun. She couldn't see. Everything- portraits, faces, floor, sheets, flowers, papers- blurred into one indiscernible smudge of plain insignificance. What mattered- _all_ that mattered- was now gone, gone, _gone_-

She forcefully slammed it shut.

"I thought you always looked forward to visiting him?"

He grinned brightly in response and the sight brought her so much joy and pain at once because this boy, _their _boy, was exactly the same as him. The lines, the eyes, the nose, the shape of his face, the hair-

_Too much like him._

She didn't know whether to be thankful for the blessing or resentful of such a curse.

"Yeah, I like visiting Dad." He paused, nibbling on his toast. "Do you want to go somewhere else, Mum?"

"No." She smiled reassuringly, "No, Scorpius. I want to spend time with your father too."

"What book is it this year?" He asked excitedly, eyes lighting with hope.

"I'm not sure. Do you want to pick one for me?" She knew he would grab his newly bought story book. It became his favourite a few days earlier, right when they spotted it sitting on one of the shelves in a Muggle book store.

"Yes!" He immediately jumped from his chair, the grin still plastered on his face, and scurried away to grab his book.

Hermione chuckled at his eagerness.

Life was absolutely wonderful, if only a step away from perfect.

* * *

_eleven_

He had wondered, most of the time, why his mother had married his father.

People around him had said that they bickered, quarreled, argued almost constantly that it didn't seem like they had liked each other, much less _loved_ each other. He was generally not concerned of what people said but that was because it had often been the murmurs of 'half-blooded Malfoy' and the like.

This time, however, it was of the mysterious relationship of his parents. He unwillingly and unconsciously became uneasy of the news. He came to a grim conclusion that perhaps, his mother had only married the man he called father because she had had him.

A mistake.

It had made him so very miserable and sick that it disturbed his sleep, haunted his dreams. His appetite disappeared and his focus gone.

His mother forced him to spill the things that were plaguing his mind after he collapsed inside the house. Him having a fainting spell had terrified her so much that she cried.

Scorpius hated the sight of his mother crying.

"_I- Mom, I'm fine-"_

"_Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy! Say it now or-"_

_His heart twisted in guilt and fear but he mustered up all the courage he had to tell her the truth._

"_I didn't want to find out that I'm an unwanted child." He finally whispered, softly that it could have been missed. If not for the short distance between them, he doubt she would've heard him._

_His mother froze._

"_I thought that father married because you had me and I-" He sucked in a breath. "I don't want to be the cause of a loveless marriage."_

_Silence._

_It was long. Too long, heavy and it was weighing down on his lungs._

"_Scorpius, I did hate your father."_

_His insides churned painfully. For once, he hated her straightforwardness. _

"_Once. But that was before- before everything." She laughed faintly and it had puzzled him immensely. "I didn't know how or when exactly we fell in love but we did. We married, had you and all the while, very much in love. Didn't I tell you?"_

"_Yes but they say you fought so much-"_

"_We did bicker a lot, Scorpius, but that's how we, dare I say, communicate and bond with each other."_

_He gave her a suspicious look, not quite believing her. After all, she could have simply lied so that he would drop the subject. But, oh, Scorpius can be quite persistent when the situation needed him to be._

_This was one of those times._

"_But-" _

"_I won't say he's perfect, Scorpius. No, not at all. In fact, Draco's quite the opposite. Rude, a prat who uses foul words most of the time, always thinks he's right, gets jealous a bit too easily," she rolled her eyes but sighed affectionately, "although he's more than that. He's insists on being a complete gentleman, stubborn but clever, surprisingly affectionate, protective and well, I love him, your father that is. It's just that many people don't bother taking some time to know him."_

_He couldn't help but believe her when she said so, he truly felt her heart in those words. But there was still a sense of niggling doubt in the corner of his mind and he couldn't push it away, no matter how hard he tried._

"_I suppose it's quite a surprise that we were on a relationship. Then, suddenly engaged that quickly escalated to marriage. No one really expected it."_

"_Do you really love him? You are not lying are you?"_

"_Yes, I do."_

"_Do you not regret it or-"_

"_Scorpius dear," She interrupted him with a hint of irritation but her voice was of steel, "I love you and I love him. I love you both like no other."_

_He had almost asked her another "really?" just so that she would say it again but he knew that his mother would repeat the words if he just asked._

"_Alright, Mum, you love us." He finally conceded then abruptly, went mute._

_She smiled a bitter sweet smile and cupped his cheek, bringing their foreheads together as he silently cried, muttering incoherent apologies under his breath._

"_Forever and always, Scorpius, forever and always."_

* * *

_fourteen_

He was standing there in the middle of nowhere. Everything around him was bright and white that it hurt his eyes.

Scorpius began pondering how on earth he had gotten here when the last thing he saw was the pitch fast approaching as he fell off his broom during a Quidditch match against the Hufflepuffs.

Pity, really. It was his second match.

He took a quick glance around again, checking for people or something- _anything_- familiar.

Then, he saw it.

Or rather, him.

A man, tall and grey clothing contrasting with the harsh white, had his back turned towards him, making it impossible to see his face.

He hesitantly began approaching the stranger. Maybe the questions of his foreign surroundings could promptly be answered.

He really wanted to go back to Hogwarts.

Or was this the afterlife? He had, after all, fallen off a broom and it had been considerably high above the ground.

He shuddered as he thought of his mother. She would _kill_ him for this_._ And then she would be alone. He felt the horrible prickling of fear and desperation creeping up his spine.

He needed to go back.

Too preoccupied with his own thoughts, he didn't notice the platinum blond hair, just like his, or how close he had gotten to the stranger.

"You've grown."

His eyes grew wide, panicked musings disturbed and his entire body suddenly refused to budge.

The man turned to reveal a face so very similar to his own.

"Hello, Scorpius."

And in that instant, he knew who this person really was.

He was rooted to the spot, paralyzed, his grey eyes still wide and staring at the- no, his _father_. He couldn't move, his limbs was heavy like lead, he couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

He was exactly how he looked like in the photos and Scorpius was a carbon copy of the man.

His father- _father_- chuckled.

_He's right there. He really could touch him. Is he real? Is it really him? How? Why? But his father is so close and he doesn't care- so, so, so close-_

"You're tall, that's good. Handsome too, as expected." Draco Malfoy smirked and ruffled his hair, fondly.

Scorpius was unable to hold back a smile.

_What he had always wanted._

"Let me guess, Quidditch accident?" He- _father_- asked, grey eyes knowing.

He nodded ever so slightly, still overwhelmed.

"Why are you so stiff? Don't like your dad?" He quirked an eyebrow and there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

_There. There, there, there. See? He said it himself. Dad, he said. Dad-_

His mind was in complete disarray. He later blamed his temporary mad state for what he was about to do because truthfully, he didn't really know why he had done it himself.

He blurted everything out.

"Every Valentine's Day, Mum would bring you coffee and cookies or chocolates. When it's her birthday, she would be with you, reading a book. Sometimes, I read to you too. And on your birthday, she would be with you again, telling you everything that had happened that year then, she will read another book if she has a good one to share. We always visit on Christmas too. Mum spends hours and hours with you that most of the time, I had to remind her to go home. If not, she wouldn't move away."

His blinked.

Then, his face broke into a smile.

"I know."

That was all he needed.

Scorpius threw his arms around his father's chest and hugged him tight, his tears soaking the clothes he wore. His father didn't hesitate to return his embrace, patting his head soothingly. He was so warm, solid and _real_. He never wanted to let go.

Scorpius then remembered.

_Mum._

"D-Do you love her?" He asked, fabric muffling his words.

There was no hesitation but love, sincerity and longing.

"Her and you. Forever and always."

The doubt that had lingered for years evaporated into nothing, binding him no more.

When he woke up, he wasn't in the arms of his dead father and instead, came face to face with his teary eyed and very alive mother.

"Scorpius, you're awake. Oh, thank Merlin. I was so worried, I-"

"I met him, Mum."

"Who?"

He ignored the bandages wrapped around his aching head and grinned widely that his face felt sore.

"Dad," he breathed out, happy, relieved, content- all into one, "Mum, I met Dad!"

* * *

_seventeen_

"I think he would be scoffing right about now," he stared, "but is secretly happy."

He could almost hear his father groan at his betrayal.

"Yes," she giggled, "that's right. Hear that, Draco?"

They placed the two stalks of red roses on top of the handmade Valentine's Day card and below it, a box of homemade chocolates. Both of them had decided to try their hand on chocolates again as last year hadn't went too well due to carelessness on their part but this time, they did better than expected.

"He's going to be eighteen soon. Time goes by too fast."

"Mum,"

"Alright, alright." She huffed with childish annoyance.

He laughed and she joined him. They didn't say anything through it all but Scorpius knew that the both of them had felt that he had laughed along with them.

When the laughter was reduced to simple smiles, she gazed at the headstone and bent down, slowly tracing the name carved on it.

"I know you're always with us, staying around somehow. You're too overprotective and worried, really." She chuckled but there was a noticeable tremble on her shoulders. "I- no, _we _love you."

Scorpius took his mother's hand and gripped on it tightly.

"Dad, I promise I'll keep Mum safe. We'll visit again soon, I promise."

Hermione's eyes were red, full of unshed tears, but she was grinning broadly and Scorpius found himself smiling along with her.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Draco."

Mother and son, hand in hand, stood in front of the grave, a cool February breeze brushing past them.

* * *

r&r!


End file.
